A Minute Too Late To Say
by iNatix
Summary: Guilt and sadness are intertwined like rope, and only those who have encountered it have the strength to show others how to tear that rope into threads. Oneshot.


Hey. So I've been off this site for a solid five years, but I was looking back on a lot and looking forward and remembered how much I enjoyed writing and reading these. So here's this. I'm starting it as a oneshot, but I might turn it into a series of Parental/Fraternal!RoyEd if this goes over well. I'm using a 100 themes list, as well as subbing/adding a few of my own.

-—-

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

That fucking clock would stop clicking, mocking his pain with its rhythmic beats.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Ed grew up with science, he knew that time was linear and this was just a way of measurement, but the constant knocks just reminded him of how much he wanted time to stop. Maes Hughes was dead, it was Ed's own fault, and time couldn't do him a favor and just take a break for a little bit.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

It's not like Ed deserved that kindness, but even the most craven murderer sometimes seeks respite.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The leftover Hughes' had welcomed close friends and family into their home after the burial, though Ed felt like he was invading. All of these people had known Hughes in ways Ed never had and never would. As close as the elder Elric had felt to Hughes, he had only seen a sliver of the vibrant personality. The loving, sharp brigadier-general had generously welcomed Ed and that was Hughes' biggest mistake, so Ed thought.

He looked around, taking in the damage he caused.

Gracia was still crying, though that wasn't a surprise. She had loved Hughes since before Ishval, since the same year that Trisha died. She had inspiringly held it together during the service, however as Hughes fell into the ground, so fell her strength.

Elysia still didn't understand, which was just as (if not more) heartbreaking as Gracia. She was playing with some toys on the couch, aware of yet confused by the somber adults around her. She didn't understand the death or how overwhelmingly tragic it was. Her innocence wasn't comforting to those around her, it just meant that she would have it harder when she finally realized that her beloved father was never coming back.

Mustang's crew sat with some of Hughes' coworkers. They were some of the only noise in the cold house, sharing some old stories in an attempt to lighten the mood. Their forced, harsh laughs were proof that it wasn't working.

Al sat with Ed, one of his only comforts in this heavy fog. They felt the same, even if Al wasn't able to express it. Even so, Ed couldn't help but think about how Al's anguish could've been spared had Ed not involved Hughes.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The door opened, and the room fell silent as everyone's necks mechanically craned to see who was there.

It was Hawkeye, slightly reddening when she noticed everyone staring. She nodded towards Elysia, offering a comforting smile, and stepped in.

Mustang didn't follow her.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

It's funny how the presence of absence, which is supposed to consist of zero, can weigh so much.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Hawkeye sat next to the Elrics, noticing their seclusion. Everyone else went back to their own business

"Hello," she said, ripping apart the silence of the small group.

"Hello," Al answered. Ed stayed noticeably quiet, though he was staring at the empty place next to Hawkeye.

No one spoke for a few moments. No one knew what to say.

"Do you boys have a place to stay tonight? I know this loss and the ride here was unexpected, you're welcome in my apartment if you'd like." It was a kind offer for her, at the least.

After looking at Ed, who was still staring next to Hawkeye, Al answered. "Thanks, Lieutenant, but we actually are using the dorms and-"

"Where's Mustang?" Ed suddenly asked, attracting the attention of the two.

All of the upset faces in the room were nothing compared to the empty seat next to Hawkeye. Hughes was Roy's best friend, close in a way Ed didn't quite understand. He probably wouldn't ever understand it now. Ed had brought it on himself, though, by allowing Hughes to get too close.

"I'm sorry, Ed, but I'm afraid he isn't able to make it here, he's simply too busy right now," Hawkeye responded, almost as if it were rehearsed.

Ed darkly chuckled, shaking his head at the absurdity. A few others in the room looked over at the unexpected sound. "Of course he is," Ed mumbled. "So where is he?"

Hawkeye looked down for a moment, deciding whether this was worth telling.

Tick, tock.

"He was at the graveyard when he asked me to leave, but he mentioned that he was going for a walk. If I were to look, I would check the phone booth where Hughes passed."

"Thanks, Lieutenant. I guess I'm going for a walk," Ed stood up to leave, Al following. Ed reached out and stopped him. "I'll meet you in the dorms tonight, Al."

"Brother!" All eyes were watching the now loud exchange. Al noticed, lowering his voice to a dull whisper. "The killer could still be out there, you shouldn't be alone!"

Ed gave his brother a pointed look. "I'll meet you in the dorms. I'm going to take a walk."

He heard the clock hit as he closed the door.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The night was dark, but that just masked Ed's unconscious argument of self as he briskly walked towards the dreaded booth.

Why the hell was he even doing this, he didn't want to comfort the Colonel and Ed was sure the Colonel didn't want to hear any of it. Especially since Hughes was killed for Ed. If Mustang hit Ed, he wouldn't even be upset. Ed deserved it.

It took a while to reach the telephone booth with a lonely profile sitting on the bench next to it. Mustang looked like a solemn statue, carefully crafted by a great artist. He was hunched, his hair curtaining his face and slightly wet, evidence of a gentle evening rain. The decorated uniform was unkempt and open, falling loosely around his too-thin body. A black trenchcoat completed the ghostly allure, shadowing him and hiding all of his military accomplishments. To a passerby, he would probably look like a drunk who had a few too many drinks.

Ed stood about fifteen feet away, unsure of whether he was allowed to interrupt the still image. He stuck his hand in his pocket, grabbing ahold of his State Alchemist watch.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

"Fullmetal, I'm not a zoo exhibit. Stop staring like that." Roy rotated his head, obviously not too happy at being disturbed.

"It was my fault," Ed blurted. He didn't know what to do, what to say, how to apologize. His smug superior was sitting like a broken man because Ed couldn't fucking leave one man out of his business. "I killed Hughes."

Mustang shot up to his feet, hands over his pockets and eyes staring daggers. "Fullmetal, you better have more to say."

Ed ran a sweaty hand through his hair, walking back and forth on the sidewalk. "No, no, not like that. Not directly. But it's my goddamn fault, Mustang. I forced him into my mission. This is another punishment for my mistake. I'm dragging him in, I've dragged his family in, I've even fucking dragged you in. I'm a walking bomb, Mustang, be near me for too long and I'll blow up in your face." He'd stopped pacing and just firmly stood his ground now, hands clenched and eyes piercing up to gauge Roy's reaction, who was pointedly avoiding eye contact.

Ed's hand moved back over his watch, a silent comfort.

Tick, tock. Tick tock.

Roy was still silent.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

"Are you going to say anything, you bastard? Yell, scream, hit me? I ruined your life. I am the reason your best fucking friend is dead and his wife a widow. If I hadn't gotten him involved, he would've been having dinner with his kid and you wouldn't be sitting on a street bench for hours on end!" A tear welled up in his eye, but his pride refused to let it fall. "At least say something, damnit…"

Another moment passed before Roy answered.

"I'm sorry, I'm just trying to figure out the best way to tell you that you are the most arrogant, self-centered pipsqueak I've ever run into."

Ed's shock made the short comment fly over his head. "What the hell?"

Roy finally looked at Ed, staring him dead in the eye. "You heard what I said. If you think that the entire world exists to complete whatever punishment you supposedly have coming, then you're far more stupid than your alchemy test says. It's insulting for you to believe that he didn't weigh the risks when he helped you. Him and I have seen you boys attacked over and over, we're adults and know the risks to ourselves. I'm here to mourn him, not to serve into your self-pitying nightmare."

Ed just stood still, not sure whether feel better or more hurt.

Roy sighed, imitating Ed's earlier move of running his hand through his hair. "Fullmetal, everyone eventually needs to learn to separate guilt and sadness. I'm upset over the death of my best friend, but is it my fault because he had to call me? It's not. The world is a shitty place and sometimes equivalent exchange doesn't work. Hughes was a great man and a great friend who didn't deserve to die like this, but he did and no amount of self-hatred will change it. It's not your fault, it's not my fault, it's not his fault. It just is."

Ed kept staring at his feet for a few moments before lifting his eyes to pierce Roy's. "Mustang, you're a hypocrite. You can tell me this all you want, but it's not gonna work until you follow it too. Don't act like you've never put the entire weight of a tragedy on your own shoulders. Ishval, right? I might not be to blame, but I can't ignore my involvement."

For the first time, Roy had a small smirk settled on his face. "Can a man engage in his own self-pity in peace? At least I'm not yelling it into the night."

"Oh, shut up, Mustang. At least I'm not a bastard."

"Clever."

"Oh screw this, last time I come to talk to you. I have to catch Al at the dorms, see ya." Ed started to walk away.

"Wait, Fullmetal." The teenager turned around. "Seriously, this isn't your fault. You'll run out of time in life if you spend it in self-loathing." Roy's look had turned serious.

"Yeah, whatever. Get away from that bench, Mustang."

A close-by bell tower rang, signalling a new hour.

-—-

Thanks for reading this. It really was rejuvenating to try writing again. This is my first time doing fiction in five years, I think. Feel free to leave a review if I did anything very noticeably wrong. Thanks again!


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